


Fancy Meeting You Here

by Sarah_JAG (msdonnatemplenoble)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Love/Hate, Multi, OT3, Reunions, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, crossover AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 10:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6902527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msdonnatemplenoble/pseuds/Sarah_JAG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris Smith was gone. Sent to prison because 16 years ago, Donna didn't tell him how old she was. It didn't matter to the judge that they found each other again & had been living & working together for the past 6 months. He didn't care that  he came to the courts voluntarily, not content to hide the truth from people any longer. No, it was an election year & the judge kept that in mind when sentencing him. It was the day a very real part of Donna Noble died. </p><p>Two months later, <i>Captain</i> John Hart blows into her nightclub as the newest bartender and it's loathing at first sight for Donna, or is it? John is a criminal, an unrepentant, egotistical, arrogant... Criminal.</p><p>He also proves to be a distraction from the constant numbness that has become Donna's reality since she was forced to say goodbye to the only man she had ever loved.</p><p>So what happens when the former DI, gets a reprieve from a higher court? When he gets released from jail, his record  wiped clean and he returns to the nightclub he and Donna both work at, only to find John Hart, a man he had arrested working behind the bar? Making eyes at Donna... And him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fancy Meeting You Here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dom/gifts).



No! This wasn’t right! She gasped, her mouth hanging open, eyes wide as she saw him across the room. Donna snapped her jaw shut before turning her back to the tall, dark figure that entered through the back door of the club. She was seeing things again, that was all. Her mind was playing tricks on her, seeing him in places he used to be, hearing his voice calling her name followed by that quiet, amused chuckle when she’d startle at the sound of it. He always got a kick out of how easily her mind would wander.  
That is all it is now, she told herself. He’s not here. He’s sitting in a jail cell and that’s her fault, even if he says otherwise.

Donna swallowed hard, her eyelids drifting shut. She was no longer standing in the middle of the empty nightclub. She was biting the inside of her cheek, her eyes burning with unshed tears as she refused to break down in front of him as the judge read his sentence. She vaguely remembered the barrister whispering something about an appeal, about the judge coming up for re-election, squeezing her hand and telling her not to worry. But she didn’t feel it. She hasn't felt much of anything since that day.  
“No contact with the victim,” he had ordered. They had fifteen minutes to say good-bye, make arrangements. Fifteen minutes, after fifteen years apart and only six months together. Donna opened her eyes, keenly experiencing again that instant when something inside her broke. It radiated through her, like an electrical current, but instead of causing her nerve endings to dance, the pain only shut her down further. Killing her slowly, as she was forced to relive each agonizing moment of their goodbye. Weakly, she almost smiled as she acknowledged her legs might give out from under her. However, standing behind the bar, giving her an odd and dare she say it, almost concerned look was John. That was enough to snap her out of her spiral.

Captain John Hart, was the egotistical, arrogant, pain in the ass, criminal turned bartender (okay, probably still criminal) that had somehow become a distraction from the emptiness her life became on that day. Yeah, that was a good fit for what he was, a distraction. All be it, not an entirely unpleasant one. Something she could walk away from and not get hurt. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him. Despite her best efforts, she found she did in fact, like the bastard. Not that she’d ever admit that to him. John's greatest sin wasn't his criminal past; it was simply that he wasn’t **him**.

 _Him_. The figment of her imagination she had seen step out from the darkness of the rear entrance, into the light of the club’s dance floor. Donna offered a weak smile at John. The ginger reached up to let her hair down before approaching the bar, when two very distinct things caught her attention.  
The first was the look on John’s face. His signature, and never understated smirk as she reached up to let her hair fall down behind her back, suddenly froze; replaced by a confused scowl and eyes that first opened wide in something akin to shock, before narrowing menacingly.  
Donna blinked, about to ask him what was wrong when she felt a pair of large, work worn hands, cover her own as she went to withdraw the clip.

“’ere, let me,” the distinct Northern cadence of his voice made the words sound like Shakespeare to Donna. His voice was soft, quiet. As if he was trying not to scare her. Donna’s heart began to pound so furiously against her ribcage, she was certain one of the two was about to give! Her stomach was in knots, her voice, refusing to cooperate. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe.  
This was not happening. This was another dream, she screamed to herself, over and over again. The voice in her head reaching a fevered pitch as she felt him gently tug at her hand to turn to face him.  
Donna screwed her eyes shut tightly even as she allowed him to manipulate her to face him. The low, soft chuckle that reached her ears forced tears to try to break free from behind the confines of her eyelids. One of the same hands that had recently covered hers, ghosted lightly along her cheek down towards her chin, tilting her head up in an attempt to get her to look at him.

“Donna,” he called to her kindly, urging her to give in, “are you ever goin’ to look at me?” His eyes searched her face, he waited for two long months to see her again, to speak with her. Feel the touch of her skin against his. He needed her to really see him. 

In response, she shook her head vigorously back and forth, before finally finding her voice, “No,” she breathed, “if I open my eyes you’ll be gone and this will all be another bloody dream,” her voice hitched and she inhaled sharply, “I can’t… I…”

He couldn't help himself, he smiled down at her as he shushed her tenderly, “Donna, I’m home. It’s over, open your eyes, Love.” He brushed her lower lip with his thumb, making it tremble under his touch.

Donna didn’t believe him, but she forced herself to comply, opening first her left eye, then her right in a painfully slow succession. As he came into focus, she felt her knees buckle as she lurched forward, grabbing a hold of him for support.

“Chris!” she gasped, too overwhelmed to say much else, “Oh god! It really is you!" Donna paused, and pulled her lower lip between her teeth momentarily before releasing it to continue. “But the judge said," she needed a moment and blinked heavily. "You aren’t supposed to be here. How..?” She tentatively reached her hand out to to cup his cheek, staring into the endless depths of his blue eyes.

She was about to say more when a voice from behind her interrupted the moment, “So, fancy meeting you here, Blue Eyes,” John’s voice rang out, “would't take you for a nightclub kind of guy, figured you were more of a, _in bed by ten- all by your lonesome_ sort.”  
John chuckled to himself, “Guess I had you pegged all wrong DI Hard Body, tell ya’ what, why don’t you stop by after our shift and the three of us can get acquainted properly?” he leaned back against the bar, arms crossed in front of him with half a smile planted on his face.  
_This should be fun,_ he thought.


End file.
